Colors
by NavyBrat84
Summary: Tony and Ziva. Ziva returns to Israel and only sees one color. Tony goes to help her see other colors.
1. Chapter 1

Orange.

She saw the color everywhere. When she walked down the street she saw the color in signs, a pair of pants or a shirt, a color of a door or wall, in foods and drinks that she loved. She saw it in the sky as the sun set or as it rose back into the sky in the morning because sleep had been elusive ever since things changed. She saw the color orange everywhere she turned and it made her homesick; painfully, hopelessly, sickeningly homesick.

Today was no different as she made her way down the road and it felt like she was wearing a pair of orange coated glasses. She felt like she was going to lose it somehow and ducked into an alleyway and pulled out her phone. Her fingers trembled over the orange looking screen as she pulled up the number she needed. Tears fell silently down her cheeks even though she cursed every tear for being weak. She held the phone to her ear and pressed her back against the cool stone wall that actually felt like a bit of relief from the heat of the day that had pounded down on her. It took two rings before a familiar voice echoed through the phone. It sounded a bit sleepy, but given the time difference it didn't surprise her much. She didn't say anything at first as the words stuck in her throat and the voice on the other end continued to prod and cajole her into speaking. She feared that her tears could be heard over the line and her heart beat loudly in her chest. A shaky sigh betrayed her as it escaped her lips. "Orange," she almost whispered into the phone, "everything is orange, Tony."

Tony sat on the edge of his bed as his heart sank to the basement level of his building. This wasn't the first phone call that he had received like this, but this one was breaking him up even more than the others. "Close your eyes," he encouraged. "You got them closed?"

"Yes."

"Blue. Purple. Red. Green. Yellow. Black. Pink. Tan. White. Brown," he listed the colors slowly, deliberately. "There are many colors in the rainbow, Ziva. Pick a color and tell me a memory you have for it."

Ziva squeezed her eyes tighter shut as she thought of the colors, trying to decide on which to focus. "Green," she breathed, "the grass and the leaves on the trees. Turtles are green. Eyes. Your eyes are green," her voice trembled as she let the last one out. "I miss your eyes. They are calming. They can be mischievous too." She slid down the wall and pulled her legs close to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. "Tony," a tiny sob escaped her, "I miss home. I miss the bullpen. I miss all of you!"

Tony did all he could to hold it together as he knew his color game was not going to work today. He got up from his bed and padded quickly to his computer and pulled up the site for his favorite airline. "Just go back to your place and stay there, Ziva. I'll be there soon," he ordered her.

"But work! I do not want to be the reason you leave the team yet another person down!"

"They'll understand, Sweetcheeks. Besides, we'll always be a man down… even if we ever find someone to fill the desk; we'll always be a man down." He listened to Ziva sniffle on the other end of the line for a moment. "Go home, I'll be there before you know it," he repeated.

"Okay," she murmured, "I will see you soon."

With the click on the other end Tony lowered the phone from his ear and quickly dialed up Gibbs' number. A few minutes later, with Gibbs blessing, Tony was packing his suitcase and printing off his boarding pass for his flight that would take off in a few hours and land in Tel Aviv the following evening.

Yes, he thought, I will remind her of all the other colors in the rainbow starting with brown. The color of her hair and the deep chocolate color of her eyes. Then caramel, the warm tone that hugged her every curve.


	2. Chapter 2

Silver.

He held the cool metal between his fingers as he slid it silently into its matching lock in front of him. It had been a long ten and a half hour flight followed by a forty-five minute effort through customs and then finally a half hour drive- if you could call it a drive, he had a serious understanding for her driving abilities after hiring a taxi- from the airport to the seaside tower that housed her apartment. He was tired and his body ached, his shoulder screaming under the weight of the bag that dangled from it, but he was there.

He pushed the door open noiselessly and slipped in. He lowered his bag to the floor by the door as he closed it and did all he could to suppress the groan of relief that threatened to escape him as he toed off his shoes beside the bag. He treaded lightly through the apartment that was washed in the evening light as the sun set over the water. His eyes were trained on the balcony were she stood with the door out there standing open. As he made his way to her he drank her in. She was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a billowy white shirt that had silver embroidery. Her feet were bare and her chocolate locks were a wild mess of curls that fluttered in the breeze from the sea. She was a sight for his sore, weary eyes.

Slipping onto the balcony he slide up beside her and an arm lazily glided around her waist and to grip the bar on the other side effectively pinning her to where she had been leaning. The salty air assaulted his nose and mixed with the rosy smell that came from the shampoo she used on her hair. "It's a beautiful sight," he murmured into her ear.

Her body sagged a little against the bar in front of her as the relief of him being there washed over her. "Yes, I suppose it is, but it is not home," she whispered. While part of her would always call this land home, it was no longer _her_ home.

He drew his hand closer to her waist and pulled her snugly into his side. "The view wasn't what I was talking about," he mumbled into her hair, "although that is a beautiful sight too."

A soft rumble of laughter rolled through her, "You never do change, do you DiNozzo?"

Flashing a cheeky smile Tony shook his head, "Do you really want me to?"

She pondered the question momentarily, "No, I really would not, at least not completely. It would not hurt to not be so juvenile about some things, but you are just right as you are."

"Is everything still orange, Ziva?"

Ziva buried her face into his shoulder as she nodded and he wordlessly guided her inside the apartment. "Funny, because everything for me is brown and silver," he told her as he sat her on a couch. He fingered her wild curls, "I remember these. You hair hasn't been this wild in a long time." He trailed his finger along the silver stitching that traced over her shoulder, "your style is different back home too. Israel brings out a different side of you."

"I am not sure if I like the side that it brings out of me," she admitted.

Tony nodded in understanding. He had feared what her return to Israel could do to her. Beyond the strides she had made in English and American idioms being lost to life in this desert country he feared that the softness that she was finally becoming comfortable enough to show would disappear completely as well. He settled into his spot beside her on the couch and let her curl into his side, "just don't let it, Ziva," he implored, "when you don't like what is coming out just call or Skype one of us. You may be here, but we'll always have your six."

Ziva hummed sleepily in understanding as her head rested against his shoulder. "Have you had dinner, yet?"

"Yeah, they fed us on the plane." He glanced down to find her asleep and he couldn't help the smile that crept across his face. "Sweet dreams, my ninja," he whispered as he pulled a light blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over her. He studied her for a long while until the pull of sleep won him over.

—

Tony woke to the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen. He followed his nose after a quick detour to his bag to pull something out to take with him. "That smells amazing!" he exclaimed as he entered.

"It is nothing special, Tony."

"It's homemade, that's special," he grinned.

Ziva quickly arranged the food on two plates and set them on the table just behind Tony. "It is better than going through the drive-thru," she agreed. Tony followed her to the table as his stomach made a rude noise. Quirking her brow an amused smile crossed her face, "hungry?"

"Starved! But first," he took his seat at the table and set a box beside Ziva's plate as she sat down, "something for you."

"Tony… you did not need to bring me a present! The fact that you are here is present enough! By the way, I am sorry I fell asleep last night."

"No worries and it's not exactly a present. It's to help you to stop seeing so much orange."

Cautiously, Ziva lifted the small box from where it sat and shook it gently, "it makes no noise."

"Nope, it doesn't. Just open it to find out, Ziva."

Raising the lid off the box Ziva peeked in before looking up at Tony completely bewildered. "I do not get it, Tony."

Tony smiled as he lifted the different color cards from the box. "Pick a color, David. We'll go through as many colors as we can before I have to go back to DC and we'll find something here to deal with that color and go there. You can write the place down on the card and when things get to be too much you can pick a color and go to one of the places and we'll have a memory there to help you. Pick a color for today and after breakfast we'll go out and make memories."

Ziva's eyes misted as Tony explained her gift. "I am very lucky to have you in my life."

"The romantically dysfunctional have to stick together," he smirked. "Now pick a color before this breakfast you made gets cold!"

She gazed over all the different colors and plucked the color blue from the pile and held it up for Tony to see.

"Blue it is," he nodded. "Good color. It is supposed to calm people and I'm sure we'll find plenty of blue things around here."

"Thank you, Tony."

"No need, I missed…" he let the sentence trail off as he noticed the single tear slip down Ziva's cheek. "Hey now! No tears," he warned as he gently brushed the moister away. "We're going to have a great couple of days and if you're good I'll pack you in my bag and bring you home with me," he teased.

"Would you?" she asked in all seriousness.

His heart sank. "If I could I would in a heartbeat, Ziva, but we both know that can't be done right now. Besides, I'd breakdown and buy you a seat beside me," he flashed her the grin he knew she loved and watched as the corners of her mouth betrayed the sad look in her eyes for a second. "But for now why don't you tell me of some place to go with that blue card while we eat breakfast?"

Ziva sat thoughtfully for a moment before she started ticking off place to begin their adventure that day.


	3. Chapter 3

White.

He turned on his side and watched as the glow of morning filled the room and caramel melted into white beside him. It was a combination of colors that warmed his heart in the days that he had been there. Chocolate curls fanned out across the stark color of pillow that her head rested on and he carefully reached out to touch the ends of them. The blue button-down shirt that he had thrown at her after they had raced in the night before, drenched from head to toe from the sudden and unexpected rainstorm, caressed her as it dipped down and around her shoulders and barely peeked above the sheet that draped across her body. He wasn't sure when they fell asleep, or who fell asleep first. After he had convinced her that taking the shirt wasn't a big deal and she could worry about the mountain of laundry that needed to be done after he left they had changed into dry clothes and then took to the bed talking until the wee hours like they had done the last three nights since he got there. They had managed to make memories for all but two colors in the box that he had brought her. He would be at the airport later that night for the flight that took off just before 1am in the coming morning and he planned to seek out places to dazzle her mind with concerning the colors before he had to leave, but now he made a memory to take home for him- white, caramel, brown, and blue seared into his mind.

"You are staring," she lazily stated as she turned her head to him. Her eyes were slow to open as the pull of sleep fought the new day. She half believed that if she remained asleep he would never leave.

"I thought you were asleep," he admitted as he welcomed her now opened chocolate orbs with a sleepy smile. "How did you know I was watching you? Your eyes were closed!"

She pulled herself to her side and propped herself up on her arm, "I felt your eyes."

He leaned in closer to her and gazed deeply into her eyes, "you'll have to teach me that some day." The intimacy of the moment filled the room as neither broke the locked gaze they had on one another.

"Maybe one day," she quietly agreed after a few heartbeats.

Reaching up he brushed an errant curl that had fallen onto her face. "So, since today is my last day here and we still have two colors to get through I was thinking that I'd treat us to breakfast out and then we can explore the possibilities of making some memories to go with those last two colors you have left," he paused, "what do you think, Ziva? Sound like a plan?"

Ziva flopped onto her back with a pout forming on her lips. "I do not have a choice," she brooded.

"We could go for breakfast and then go shopping if you'd prefer," he countered, "or whatever you want."

"No, the colors," she said shaking her head, "I want to finish the colors. I just do not want you to leave."

"We could run away to Italy or Paris if you'd like," he teased.

"Tony," she sighed heavily.

"Okay, breakfast and making memories it is."

—

They had dressed and walked a short distance away to have breakfast in a little café that Ziva loved before they had set out for their day. Tony's eyes had continually found themselves transfixed on Ziva as not much had changed from when she had gotten out of bed only a few hours before. Caramel skin was still encased in white as she had pulled the only thing she had left clean which was a white sundress. He was beginning to truly love that combination of colors.

"Look up," he urged as his eyes focused on the chandelier above them. They had been wandering an empty area of the museum for awhile now and had just found themselves under an ornate golden chandelier. Ziva peered up at it as Tony held out his hand to her, "a dance?" he inquired.

Hesitantly Ziva looked around the room they were in, "what if someone decides to find out what is in here?"

"Then they can watch! C'mon, Ziva, a little dance never hurt anyone." He wiggled his hand in front of her, "don't leave a guy hanging."

"I guess one dance would not hurt," she whispered as she slipped her hand into his.

Tony smiled as he pulled her to his body and began humming a familiar tune into her ear. "I think this will be my favorite 'gold' memory," he laced into the tune.

Ziva rested her head on his shoulder. "Mine too," she purred, "and do not think I do not recognize that song, I do. We danced to it in Berlin."

"Well I did say that they were playing 'our song' then so I thought it only appropriate to dance to it again," he whispered into her ear.

They swayed slowly under the chandelier until they heard footsteps enter their refuge from the hustle and bustle around them and then reluctantly pulled apart. There was an elderly couple that stayed close to the walls that held painting on them. In Hebrew the older man told them to not mind them and Ziva responded back that they were just leaving before grabbing Tony's hand and leading him out of the room and through a side door to the sun drenched world just beyond.

"My Hebrew isn't perfect, but I'm pretty sure they said they didn't mind us being there," Tony protested.

"They did not mind us, but I minded them."

"Hey," Tony said as he stopped in his tracks and pulled Ziva back from leading him to wherever she was taking him, "don't tell me that they ruined that."

"No. No, no, not at all. I just did not want anyone there for that is all."

Breathing a sigh of relief Tony wrapped his arm around her shoulders and began walking with the flow of the crowd around them. "Glad to hear that because I don't know if I could find another perfect place to dance again."

They walked amongst the people and shops for a little bit before ducking into a restaurant for a quick dinner. They had made memories for the last two colors and it was time for Tony to head back to the States. They ate dinner in near silence, neither sure what to say. After dinner they went back to Ziva's apartment and collected his bag before she drove him the half hour drive to the airport with enough time to clear customs.

They were standing before the security plaza at the airport as people around them bid farewell to their loved ones when he pulled her into his arms. "I guess now we'll always have Tel Aviv, too," he murmured as his lips brushed her temple.

Ziva chuckled, "yes, I suppose so." The heaviness of the moment lightened by Tony's slight playful tone.

"I'll visit again soon," he whispered as he continued to hold her in his arms, "but if you need anything before then there's always the phone or email or Skype."

"I know. Thank you for coming, Tony. I really do not know how I would have made it through these last few days."

"It was my pleasure," he smiled, pulling his head back for her to see it, "not seeing orange, right?"

"No. No orange," she confirmed.

There was a push from the wall of people trying to make it through the security checkpoint that bounced them around a little. "I guess I should follow them," Tony sighed. "Gibbs would give me the head slap of my life if I didn't show up to work tomorrow."

A few tear threatened to tumble from Ziva's eyes as she nodded in understanding. "I have kept you long enough," she affirmed. "Have a safe flight, Tony. Will you call when you get home?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed.

Ziva lifted up on her tiptoes and places a kiss on Tony's cheek and as she settled back to her feet he leaned in and returned her kiss with one to her forehead. "Until your next visit then," she said in a barely audible voice in the din of the crowd around them.

—

Tony sat at his desk and looked around. He was surrounded by orange, but his mind's eye only saw chocolate, caramel, white, and gold.


End file.
